


Teenage Wasteland

by jackwritesthings



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Friends to Lovers, M/M, young!Trikey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8193413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackwritesthings/pseuds/jackwritesthings
Summary: Michael and Trevor have lived in the same trailer park for nearly as long as they can remember, but after graduation they soon realize the time has come to say goodbye.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure guilty pleasure shit. Might continue later? Cheers.

They were surrounded by darkness. Night had come to envelop the grassy plains of the American midwest in its unlit company. The sun had gone, but not its heat, making the air damp and giving form to the shade around them. They melted into it, comforted by its steady nothingness, the cold metal of the truck bed at their backs, the warm sureness of the others presence pressing at their sweating sides, and before them was the only light. The sky was alive, turning the heavens into a spectacular display of kinetic light: the whine of ascension and the roar that followed, the bits of colored fire raining down and out of sight, blinking like eyes before closing forever, dissolving back into the night.

Independence Day was no minor affair in this place. When else was it perfectly acceptable to lounge in a lawn chair by a lake, drinking beer all day and releasing rockets into the night? It was every American’s dream, and Michael Townley lived in Smalltown, USA.

A burning joint nestled between his fingers, and Michael pulled from it as he glanced to his left, where Trevor laid beside him. The Canandian’s face was illuminated by the bursts of fire, and his brown eyes reflected the distant light. His tacky tank top bearing the American flag had been discarded some time ago and was now wadded up and tucked carelessly into the back corner of the truck bed. He had one arm pillowed behind his head, the other shoulder pressing against Michael while his hand held a beer against his chest. His face was flush from the day’s intake of sun, drugs, and booze. Michael could smell his sweat, see the shine of its thin film on the boy's pale skin, as his russet hair clung to his forehead in strings still damp from their earlier swim in the adjacent lake. Come to think of it, Independence Day wasn’t that different than most other summer days for he and Trevor.

Michael had been doing this for years, coming out to this lake, ever since he'd been drinking out of juice boxes instead of beer cans and riding bikes instead of driving trucks. Back then, his summer activities had consisted of games of manhunt in the woods with a few of the other park kids, and leaving burning bags of dog shit on the doorsteps of their enemies. Now it was swiping horse-piss beer and stale-ass cigarettes from Trevor's mother. It was vandalizing the town, hiding from the cops, breaking into cars and stealing anything they thought they could pawn for cash, then spending said cash on stupid things like fast food and shitty weed. All the while, he had fantasized about his life beyond this place. He had counted down the days, and yet he'd thought these days would never end.

In a moment of clarity, as he watched the lights rise and burst and fade as if they never were, he realized the summer was halfway over. The last summer of his childhood, the last summer he would spend in this town. The last summer that he would spend with Trevor Philips for the foreseeable future.

At first, the friendship that had formed between them had seemed inevitable. Michael had been eight when Trevor, nearly the same age, and his mother had moved into the trailer next to the one Michael’s family lived in. The boys had been wary of each other at first, but mutual curiosity had pulled them together. The next ten years were history. In fact, the length of their friendship had surprised and confused many people. In a small town like this, no one had anything better to do than talk about the neighbors. Admittedly, the two boys didn’t run in the same social circles.

In fact, he wasn’t sure Trevor even had a social circle. He had quickly gained a reputation for being…well, weird. This was quite a title coming from one of the the trailer-trashiest areas of North Yankton, where everyone seemed to be just a little off. For a while, he was just the skinny kid from Canada with an eccentric style and a poor sense of personal space. However, the more people learned about him, the more they began to pick out his differences. No one knew much about his father, and his mother was employed at the strip club downtown, which came with its own set of issues. Aside from that, when he wasn’t with Michael, he always seemed to be getting into trouble, starting fights, defacing property, or other such antics. Everyone could tell there was some underlying problem, something that no doubt stemmed from his environment, and it had long been obvious that the boy was in need of professional help. When he turned sixteen, he got himself kicked out of school and found work with a mechanic. Meanwhile the rumors surrounding him still festered until he became a somewhat disliked and eventually ostracized member of society.

Fate had dealt Michael - strong, handsome, buff, intimidating, and above all, humble Michael - a better hand. At the behest of his gym coach, he had tried out for the football team freshmen year, and everyone had been amazed by his talent, winning state championships left and right, until he had secured himself the position of the team's football star, with several colleges offering him a scholarship to play for them. He grew in popularity, especially with the ladies, of which he seemed to have a never-ending supply. That wasn’t to say he had never suffered pain. His mother was depressed, and his father was a drunk who rolled in and out of their lives as he pleased, but everyone in this town was fucked up in some way or another and he knew his situation was mild. Indeed, he did not have very many reasons to complain, though rest assured he found things to gripe about anyway.

At that moment, Trevor let out a sigh, his amber eyes reflecting the light the fireworks as he stared above. “One of these days, Mike, I’m just gunna fly outta here.” The booze had loosened his tongue, and the weed had made him dreamy. He spoke that same a confident tone as always, but it had a certain rarer element too that Michael did not hear him use often. It brought a smile to his lips, even as a bittersweet feeling gripped his heart.

“Whatever you say, pal.” Michael replied plainly, passing the joint to his friend. Trevor took it absently, and Michael watched as his lips closed around the tip, the end glowing as he inhaled.

“It's gunna happen. Just watch. I’ll fly all over the world.”

“Heh. Yea, I believe it…” Michael snorted, a bitter note to his voice. “Leaving me here in the dust.”

He’d said it without quite thinking about it, and only after the words left his lips did he realize how they could be perceived. There was a slight pause, but something about the way he said it, or perhaps even the words themselves, prompted Trevor to turn his head and look at him. He did not reciprocate, cursing himself inwardly as he watched the movement from the corner of his vision.

Trevor seemed to shake his head and emit a short chuckle, distantly amused at something. “Ain’t leavin' you, Mikey.” He heard Trevor murmur, his voice thick with smoke as he passed the joint between them. As Michael reached to accept it, he chanced a sideways glance at Trevor’s face, but something in his friend’s eyes looked like he was seeing right through him.

Unnerved, Michael quickly turned his head back, defending himself with a shrug and a quick, joking response before pulling on the joint. “You’d better not. If this whole college football thing doesn’t work out, I’ll need some way to get out of this goddamn town.”

From the corner of his eyes, he watched as Trevor continued to look at him for a moment, and tried to keep a neutral, relaxed face void of any emotion, for he knew that’s what his friend was searching for. Eventually, either finding something and being satisfied with it, or finding nothing at all and giving up (Michael hoped it was the latter), Trevor faced forward again. Huffing a laugh, he tossed his empty beer over the side of the truck bed where it landed in the soft grass with an inaudible thud. “It’ll work out.” He stated, “It has to. I don't think they even make planes big enough to lift your fat ass off the ground.”

“Fuck you.” Michael growled, though his tone was good-natured and he couldn’t help the laugh that was apparent in his tone as he gave Trevor a punch to the gut.

“Well, if that’s what you want, sugartits.” Trevor answered casually, yet with an impish shrug. “I’m about the only person in this town you haven’t fucked yet.”

Michael laughed sarcastically, though he wasn’t quite sure what his friend meant. Either it was a jab at the number of girls he’d slept with or the number of people he’d screwed over. He didn’t always know what Trevor was talking about, but ninety-something percent of the time it was an insult. So, he came back quickly with his refined defensive skills. “Like hell. If either of us is fucked, it’s me.”

Trevor was quiet for a moment, taking the roach as Michael offered it. “Not so. The brains of the establishment always gets fucked by the uh…brawn.” Trevor responded, exhaling with a casual cough, as he reached over to give Michael’s belly a light pat.

“You’re the brains?”

“Uh, yeah.” Trevor said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the word.

Michael chuckled, shaking his head, too drunk and just high enough to want to humor the kid. "I always thought I was both the brains and the brawn when it came to you and me."

"Then, in that case," Trevor said, feigning seriousness, as he looked away to stub the joint out on the side of the truck before flicking it off the side. "I guess you'll just have to go fuck yourself.

“You’re so full of it, T.” Michael scoffed for lack of a better response, he would never admit.

“Maybe I am, if by ‘it’ you mean charming wit and amazing good looks.”

“That’s exactly what I meant, Trevor.” Michael shook his head, unable to keep the slight laugh from his tone.

A companionable silence settled easily over them. Though he would never tire of their ridiculous banter and unnecessary arguments, or even a heart-felt conversation on the rare occasion, times like these where they could simply enjoy one another’s company without putting any effort into it all he believed were the real reasons why he and Trevor were friends. He sat thankfully in the hush, feeling his best friend against his side, listening to his breathing above the muted sounds of distant explosions, and it was true bliss. There was not a person on earth who he could do this with so effortlessly.

Michael was soon lost in his own thoughts. Not knowing what the future held (more specifically, where it held the two of them) had left him with much on his mind lately. A tense sort of restraint seemed to have fallen over some of their time together as the awareness that they would soon need to go their separate ways manifested gradually, like a blanket of snow drifting into town over the cover of night so that one morning he woke up and realized he was cold.

Caught in his own thoughts, he did not realize the fireworks display had ended until Trevor stretched beside him, obnoxiously throwing his arms over Michael’s torso. The kid yawned as he pushed himself up to a seating position, “So what’s the move, Mike?” He asked casually rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at Michael.

At that moment, Michael felt a buzzing in his pocket and groaned inwardly, distantly aware that Trevor had stilled beside him. Shoving a hand in his pocket, he fished out the cheap flip phone his girlfriend had gotten him for his last birthday. The phone that no one ever called or texted him on but her. Flipping it open to glance at the caller ID, a sexy picture of a brunette in a leopard print bra looked coyly back at him, along with a flashing text that read ‘Amanda.’ The night was young and most of the wildest parties were only getting started. It would not have been uncharacteristic for Michael to ditch at this point, for the promise of getting laid. If not by his girlfriend, then at least by one in her entourage.

Suddenly, he could feel Trevor falling closer as the other boy leaned in to look at the screen/“The old ball and chain, is it?” Trevor asked airily, without surprise, but Michael could detect there was a hint of disappointment there. It caused him to look up. Misjudging the distance, his face came much closer to Trevor than he’d intended, and it took him aback for a moment, giving him pause. It didn’t help that Trevor was looking at him a certain way, which he scarcely done in the past. Michael felt something was giving, but he didn’t know it was, or what it held back. All he knew was that he felt the need to hold it together it, so in one last defense, he reached out and gave Trevor a hard, but playful shove against his shoulder.

It had the desired affect, as Trevor was knocked backwards and Michael finally had the space to breath. But of course, there was retaliation, and Trevor gave him a similar shove, seeming to test his limits. Michael sent him a glare, as well as a fist in the stomach. The boy grunted as the wind left him, but recovered quickly, as Trevor always did, laughing as he shoved Michael’s shoulder again and began to square up. “So you wanna fight, huh, porkchop?” He joked, when Michael hit him back.

A few more playful knocks had them locked in a mock wrestling match that certainly reflected their lack of sobriety. Growling in triumph, Michael managed to roll over and pin Trevor’s back to the floor of the truck bed, his knees on either side of the boy’s thighs, and his hands pressing his wrists into the cool metal. Michael gained satisfaction from the thought that he’d overpowered him, but his slight inebriation didn’t let him pay much attention to the fact that Trevor offered no resistance.

It wasn’t then until a small voice made itself known. In their tussle, Michael had accidentally accepted Amanda’s call, and now her voice was yelling through the phone which had fallen at Trevor’s head. Their laughter quickly faded, but their smiles did not, as Michael picked up the phone and looked at the screen, Amanda’s picture looking back at him, seemingly offended. He knew if he didn’t speak he’d be in trouble for it later, especially after Amanda had likely heard all the rummaging and laughing. There’d be no good excuse to blow her off, beyond his drunken shenanigans with Trevor, of which she’d never approved.

Slowly, Michael became aware that his body was still pinning Trevor's to the bottom of the truck bed, in a position that only just now seemed compromising. He looked down, feeling somehow drawn to the other kid’s eyes. Trevor was watching him closely, a straightness to the line of his mouth that Michael had never seen on. For a moment Michael became transfixed on that mouth, his own expression growing dark as something heavy seemed to grip them both. When he finally cut his gaze back to Trevor’s eyes, he found within those deep brown hues a heavy-lidded stare capable of eating souls, Michael’s in particular. He couldn’t avert his stare, looking on in fascination as Trevor’s own gaze seemed to land on Michael’s mouth. A flash of tongue darted out as Trevor wet his lips habitually, but Michael's eyes widened with piqued interest.

It escalated his curiosity beyond what anything ever had before and suddenly he felt as though there was some great secret he was on the verge of discovering. His nature made him determined, and the booze made him fearless. Something, some unnamed force, was pulling him forward, leaning him down until he hovered just barely above Trevor’s lips. Hesitation gripped him in a stray light of reason that shone through the fog that the booze had left him in, and he checked Trevor’s expression to see what might be going through the kid’s mind. That’s when he noticed.

Trevor’s eyes were closed, his brow knotted in a way that suggested concentration, his breathing had jumped, making his chest rise and fall quickly in anticipation. He had arched his shoulders, craning his neck up in an effort to reach the inevitable kiss as soon as it was given to him. That pure display of want. It was all Michael needed. As their lips met, Trevor let out a moan, a soft sound of bliss that Michael had not heard before, but one he liked the sound of as he swallowed it up.

This was far from Michael’s first kiss, but he wondered about Trevor, who he had never known to be in a relationship, and who’d never mentioned himself to be in one (unless you counted the peculiar crush he had on the Spanish teacher). Either way, Michael found he liked to entertain the thought of Trevor’s virgin lips on his own. But mostly, he was still lost in the novelty of it. Trevor tasted different than any girl he’d ever kissed. Like beer and smoke and something he could only describe as…what? Honest, raw, hard, masculine, loyal. Something that was solely and completely Trevor.

There was a part of Michael that suggested for him to stop, but he was still feeding off his curiosity, which felt far from sated. He’d never been one to listen to morals anyway. Tentatively, he dipped his tongue into Trevor’s yielding mouth, feeling his cock twitch at the wet smack the sound their open mouths made against the other. Trevor’s hands quickly went to Michael

Trevor moaned again and his hands quickly went to Michael’s face, one cupping his cheek and the other stroking down his neck to his chest. It was intimate, and Michael allowed it reluctantly. A strong desire was building in him, to touch and be touched, as he secured his weight above Trevor with one hand and dragged his fingers over the young man’s bared chest with the other, feeling the lean muscles there.

Meanwhile, he felt Trevor’s own hands had made their way to his shoulders. They lingered there before sliding down his back and slipping beneath the hem of his own shirt. It felt impossibly hot all of a sudden. Almost on accident, he let out an appreciative grunt against Trevor’s lips as he felt the calloused hands glide up and down his back. Lost in the magnificence of the sensation, he didn’t realize when those hands slid further down beneath the waistband of his pants to grip his ass, and the realization startled him out of the haze.

With a short intake of breath, he shot up straight up to kneel above Trevor, grabbing the offending wrists in his grip. “What are you doing?” He asked, sounding stern.

Trevor stared at him, panting, confusion written clearly on his face. “I was just…” He trailed off as his expression became tense.

“What do you think this is?” Michael continued, the anger coming out in his tone causing Trevor to cower. “I’m not…I’m not gay, alright?”

Trevor was silent for a moment, looking downcast before he said, “Neither am I.”

With an irritated sigh, Michael began to push himself further away, but was stopped when Trevor gripped both of his biceps. “Mikey, wait, I’m sorry. I-I won’t do it again, whatever you want… Please.”

The tone of Trevor’s voice, the quiet, begging look in his eyes, combined with Michael’s own intense desire almost overturned his decision. Kissing Trevor felt good, and if something felt good, why should he deny himself? But Trevor was his best friend. Not his…whatever it was. “Trevor, we’re both drunk. Apparently a lot more shit-faced than I thought. I need to sleep it off, and then…. then I need to think about things."

He tried to pull away again, but Trevor’s grip was strong. “Hey,” The boy gave Michael a tug backwards, sounding odd. “Please. For a long moment they were both silent, and Michael stared as he weighed his options. Trevor wanted this, he wanted this. They were practically grown men, and soon they’d be saying goodbye for an unknown length of time. They were friends, brothers practically, sharing a closeness Michael had never known. It only seemed right that the end of this road should culminate with such a radical event, before their respective paths diverge. Once that thought entered his brain, Michael had lost.

He grabbed Trevor roughly and lunged forward, returning them to the prone position they’d been in a moment ago. “Don’t try anything. Remember your fucking place.” He growled threateningly, waiting on Trevor to nod his understanding of the arrangement, before he returned to his former position above him.

His movements were much less gentle as his mouth covered Trevor’s again, kissing with an urgency. He acted with a punishing aggressiveness, pressing forcefully against Trevor’s lips, gripping his hips tight enough to bruise, but no resistance was offered, no other complaint was voiced. Trevor’s hands touched him in a much more reserved manner, staying far above his belt. The way his yielding friend felt beneath him had caused some powerful, dominant beast to awaken within Michael, growing frustrated with the need for more.

Finally, he removed himself from Trevor just long enough to divest himself of his own t-shirt. Looking at Trevor’s face, he noticed his brown eyes taking in his physique unabashedly. They’d seen each other shirtless before, but no explanation was needed for why it was different this time.

Michael lowered himself again over Trevor so that their chests were pressed together. He felt timid fingers skirting over the back of his shoulders, cautious of drawing the anger out of him again. It gave Michael a feeling he couldn’t describe, to see how badly his friend wanted this… He wondered after the extent to which Trevor would go for something so small. With their body’s pressed together, Michael rolled his hips downward, pressing his growing hardness into Trevor, and feeling Trevor’s there too.

Michael heard a surprised gasp as Trevor’s fingers gripped his side, and rolled his hips down again, searching for friction. A high-pitched sound escaped Trevor this time, and it sent a shot of adrenaline tingling up Michael’s spine. Still, the animal inside him only called for more.

It was with great relief that he heard Trevor’s words, spoken in a quiet tone. “Hey,” He managed to get out between gasps as Michael continue to grind their hips together. “I have lube.” He said somewhat bashfully, perhaps. At this point Michael couldn't care less about why Trevor happened to have lube in his truck.

“Get it.” He said, sitting back on his knees again. Trevor paused, looking somewhat surprised for a moment, but he recovered quickly and crawled to the back of the truck bed, leaning into the Bodhi's cab to reach into the glovebox and pull out a small bottle.

When he returned, Michael took the bottle from him, but stopped there, unsure of how to continue. By the looks of it, Trevor didn’t either. They stared at each other awkwardly for a few beats, before Michael’s frustration overrode his insecurity.

“Take ‘em off.” He says, gesturing to Trevor’s jeans. “Hurry up.”

He waited for his demands to be met, as Trevor quickly kicked his boots off and fumbled with his belt before sliding the rest of his clothes off. Michael looked on in appreciation, admiring the young man’s lean body while Trevor eyed him with anticipation and thinly-veiled nervousness.

“Well?” Michael questioned impatiently, and Trevor scrambled to lie down on his back. Michael shot him a look of annoyance before grabbing his arm and roughly flipping him over onto his stomach.

Trevor flailed for a moment, the abruptness of the movement causing him to feel hesitant. “Michael, wait…” He said, unsureness coloring his tone. “Go easy. I’ve never-.”

“Shut up, T. It’s fine.” Michael dismissed as he arranged Trevor in the position that he wanted him.

In a few moments, he had his dick out and lubed up, tossing the bottle away where it fell somewhere in the truck bed with a thud. Leaning down again, he covered Trevor’s body with his own, his breath fluttering the kid’s ragged locks as he lined himself up with his entrance. Michael could feel how tense he was.

“Relax,” He whispered against the shell of Trevor’s ear, bringing one hand to grip the boy's hip. The younger kid let out a shaky breath and nodded, his eyes screwed shut in anticipation. Bracing himself, Michael began to move his hips forward, sliding slowly in Michael.

“Aahh…” He heard Trevor whimper as he himself let out a groan.

“God.” The pleasure of it was almost too much for him. He paused for a moment, restraining himself, pressing his forehead to Trevor’s shoulder. “Fuck, T, you’re tight.”

“You think?” Trevor bit back sarcastically, his voice shrill and laced with pain.

“You alright?” Mikey finally thought to ask.

“No. It fucking hurts.” Trevor growled, his teeth bared and his fists balled up and his knuckled white. “Keep going.”

Michael had no problem obeying, and began to move his hips back and foreword again repeatedly.

“Oh fuck, Mikey.” Trevor said slowly after a few moments of thrusting, and Michael couldn’t tell by the sound of his voice whether he was in pain or pleasure. He wasn’t sure he cared either way. Trevor felt so different to anything he’d ever felt before, and it was urging him on, provoking him to go faster.

“M… Oh god, Michael, it hurts. Shit, fuck, Michael… Slow the fuck down.”

Trevor had to tell him several times, before he finally could slow down, and then he had to remind him again every so often, but eventually they established a rhythm that worked, and gradually, Trevor grew used to the feeling of being entered and stretched, and his whimpers of pain slowly became moans that sounded closer to pleasure.

“Mikey.” Trevor panted after a while, “I need to…”

He knew what Trevor meant. Michael withdrew a moment, hissing at the loss as he flipped Trevor over again. He reassumed his previous position right away, reentering Trevor from this new angle as Trevor brought his legs around him, giving better access. Hearing the hitch in his breath, Michael assume this must have reintroduced pain, but their new position allowed Trevor to reach between them and stroke himself.

They continued to like this for a while, until Michael felt himself growing closer to desperation with each thrust. Bringing one hand behind Trevor’s neck, he forced their mouths together in a wet kiss. His other hand slid between their bellies and wrapped his hand around Trevor’s, both of them stroking Trevor’s cock quickly.

“Oh, jeez Mikey. Yes. Yes. Fucking, yes.” Trevor whispered against Michael’s lips, bringing his free hand up to wrap around Mike’s back, blunt nails scratch the skin. Growling in appreciation, Michael thrust harder, apparently, doing something that Trevor liked.

“Ah! Yes! Right there, Mikey,yes! Yes, oh fuck, yes! Mikey, harder! Please, Mikey… fuck me, fuck. Mikey… I love you. I love you.”

Trevor moaned on repeat like a broken record, his other hand abandoning Michael’s to the task of jacking him off while he wrapped his arms around Michael’s torso, squeezing hard. Michael could feel legs lock tightly around his waist as well while he continued to both stroke Trevor’s dick and thrust his own deep inside.

“I’m gunna come, I’m gunna come.” He heard Trevor say, his voice muffled from where he had pressed his face against the curve where Michael’s shoulder met his neck. Then suddenly, hot liquid spilled against their bellies as Trevor came “Fuck. I love you. Michael, I love you, I love you.” His mantra continued as Michael’s hips too began to stutter, and he buried his face within his friend’s neck as he followed Trevor with a quiet moan on his own lips too.

He spends a few moments there, simply enjoying the closeness even if he won’t admit to seeing it that way. The effort taxed his energy, and so it took him more muscle than usual to role off of Trevor and settle beside him. Trevor fixed him with a dreamy look, but Michael ignored it, staring up at the sky. It was the same sky they’d been under all night, but it seemed different now. A lot seemed different now. But now, he was drunk and satisfied and too tired to make sense of any of this now. He allowed his eyes to rest, even as he felt a hand stroke softly against his chest. He did not remember falling asleep until he woke again.


End file.
